#eric kinsella

[nomilkinmyteaplease]

Sam Keeley as Eric Kinsella in Kin

[aidansplaguewind]

did they really kill off Aidan in yet another show? that’s so lame. and he was looking really good in those gifsets you made…

I'm not sure but maybe I should put a TRIGGER WARNING for unaliving oneself being mentioned. But I don't use the "S" word.

My reply is below the cut.

YES, they sure as shit did. And you're right, he looked AMAZING this season. So fucking hot. I wanted more of that next season.

Even though I predicted his demise from almost the very beginning, and I even predicted the way in which he would die (self inflicted) - I still had the tiniest bit of hope that he would come out of his funk, kill Bren and become the leader they needed.

I thought to myself, there is NO WAY this show will duplicate its exact ending to the first season, again at the end of the second season. They literally ended season one and season two with Frank dying. Only this time he's gone for good. But how incredibly lazy is that? It's so fucking lame.

And I went on Twitter and looked at the #RTEKIN tag to see what the public was saying, and their dumb asses thought it was bloody brilliant. Like? Seriously? No wonder television sucks nowadays. It's because the vast majority of the public viewers aren't too bright and they're apparently very easy to amuse. So the writers don't even have to try.

I'm being mean, I know, but I am so tired of Aidan’s characters being killed off. I'm used to it, but I'm tired of it. I'm ready for him to be on something and have a long run again. Knowing my luck he'll get something for the long haul and they will dye his hair, make him look ridiculous, and make him have an American Accent.

I'm also really tired or predictable television and films.

Watching Aidan put a gun to his head kind of shook me. Luckily, once he puts it to his head, the screen went black and you hear the shot, so you don’t actually have to watch it happen. But it still bothered me. I know it's not real but just the idea was kind of traumatic for me, and I really wasn't expecting it to be. It's been almost 24 hours since I saw it and I'm still processing it.

I'm just so bummed. So very fucking bummed. We got to see more of who Frank was. I got attached and I knew I shouldn't. And even though I won't watch to find out, I feel so bad for Birdy losing her baby brother. And even though Viking and Frank weren't close, watching his dad unalive himself right in front of him is so gotta fuck him up. How could it not? I'm so tired of television writers going for shock value because they aren't capable of writing an interesting story or character.

I'm tired.

[dixiec89]

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Sneak peak from episode 2 of Kin

[rocketyoyo]

Stills from the penultimate episode of KIN season 2.

x

Bren, Viking and Birdy. x

seeing this photo makes me feel like there is really something bad going to happen to Frank. PLEASE DON'T KILL HIM! 🥺😢

[glowstick-lesbian]

Okay I’m not sure if anyone knows or is able to help me, but how are people streaming KIN? I can’t seem to find a place to stream it and I’m really sad about it. I’d prefer to stream it somehow than pirate it through somewhere but so far I’m out of luck. If anyone has any suggestions or answers I would appreciate it.

[vampirekangaroo]

I'm finally getting around to watching Kin season 2 and sweet lord have mercy to that one scene in episode 3 with Michael, Bren, Birdy, and Eric. If he ever needs an alibi, I was with him. He couldn't have done whatever was said to have happened. Michael just moved Thomas Shelby way up on my list of characters/shows I need to watch. I understand my mom's love for mobster films/shows in a whole new way now.

[tudorblogger]

Monthly Reading Summary

Check out my review of what I read in February!

[theimpalatales]

I adore the cinematography in Kin, particularly in the first few episodes of season 1 (directed by Diarmuid Goggins).

There's a voyeurism to many of the shots that place things like furniture, doors or windows in the foreground between the characters and the camera, creating distance between us and them – like we, the audience, are privy to family matters we shouldn't be seeing.

There's a sense of intensity and a fight for control to the extreme edges of the frame the characters are painted into.

And, as intense and powerful as the characters can feel, there is always the sense that the world is bigger than them. The characters are, ultimately, swallowed up by the world.

I think this is so clever because it feels like such a fresh way to shoot a show about gangsters, and it completely fits with many of Kin's themes. Throughout Kin, we see a fairly humanistic exploration of gang families and how difficult it can be for the characters to become free from the criminal endeavours they're surrounded by; once you dip your toe in the pond, you're sucked in. Events have a way of spiralling out of an individual's control, and actions have severe consequences that manifest like falling dominoes.

The world the characters inhabit is bigger than them; the house always wins. It doesn't matter that Mikey wants to stay clean to better his chances of seeing his daughter again, or that Amanda doesn't want her son having anything to do with the family's criminal activities. Even as they wrestle for control of their lives, it's made apparent that they're up against forces bigger than any of them. They are Kinsellas, they exist within this criminal world, and they will have to face the consequences of that.

But neither are these characters helpless. They are in constant conflict with each other to shape the world how they want it to be. They are characters fighting for their survival, for their right to live the way they want to (whether we agree that's morally acceptable or not). We even see explicit examples of characters like Mikey and Amanda being in a position to walk away from the family business and leave it all behind. But this isn't truly what they want.

The Kinsellas go up against Eamon Cunningham. We watch Amanda orchestrate assassinations to hit back at the men who killed her son. Eric is the first Kinsella we see carry out an execution. Mikey (briefly) engages the legal system to be able to see his daughter, and then he and Anna disregard the court's orders for them to have no contact. And the Kinsellas are constantly butting heads with each other as they reap the rewards of their criminal activities. They each have agency and power that they use to try to stay afloat in this treacherous world. The characters' conflict and struggle are visually apparent in the framing and composition of the shots.

Finally, going back to the first point I made (and, wow, I had no idea I'd be making a post this long, I am so sorry!): the voyeurism. From my (little) understanding, gang members in Ireland have almost a reality star-status. The public know who they are, the papers are constantly reporting on them, and their lives appear to be glamorous and, to some, enviable in some ways. Kin almost entirely strips this perspective away to look at the individuals behind this sense of celebrity, to examine the traumatic impact of being involved in a world so deadly and dangerous.

The wealth and glamour is present, but it isn't the focus of the show. Instead, what we get feels like an exposé, a peak behind the curtain into the true lives of these gangsters. Mikey suffers from epileptic fits often brought on by the stress of the job. Amanda and Jimmy lose their son and we watch them grieve. Eric goes to prison and his girlfriend struggles with the drastic change to their relationship. The list goes on as we are treated to the serious and real consequences of being part of this criminal world.

The colour grading and lighting also help hammer this home. It's neither highly saturated or overly desaturated. Rather than having the contrast bumped up, it almost appears soft. Against a backdrop of criminality and drama, the visuals of Kin invite its audience to view these characters as people first, to view them and their actions with empathy, if not always sympathy.

Kin is a show with something to say, and it knows how to use its cinematography to deliver that message to its audience.

[bellaxgiornata]

I Can't Lose You [part one]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: The night doesn't go as planned after being tasked by Amanda to seduce a rival drug lord in order to seal the deal for claim to more territory for the Kinsellas. When Michael finds out from his brother what happened, he's not happy with you for following Amanda's orders.

Warnings/tags: light angst, overprotective Mikey, love confession

a/n: This mental image of an upset and protective Mikey going off on Reader hit me hard and I wrote this almost entirely in one day because of it. And honestly, part of me wouldn't mind expanding on things with these two at some point because I sort of love them already... Feedback is always appreciated!

Michael Kinsella One Shot Tag List: @danzer8705 @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @shiorimakibawrites @wkndwlff @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza

Holding onto the wall for balance, you slipped out of your heels by the front door. Worn out, you slowly took them off one at a time, dropping each one to the floor with a groan. Your body was stiff and sore from the night's horrible turn of events and you were just glad you'd made it home alive. 

With your heels finally off, you bent down to pick them up and put them away in your closet, but abruptly you paused halfway, hissing in pain as your hand flew to the bruise that had to be forming along your ribs. Gritting your teeth together, you straightened back up. Awkwardly limping down your entryway hall and past your kitchen, a hand still pressed to your side, you made your way through your house and towards your bathroom. You’d just leave your shoes where they were, too sore and exhausted to deal with them tonight. 

Flipping on the lights in the bathroom, you limped over to stand before the sink. Carefully your hands reached down to your mid-thigh, pulling the hem of your dress all the way up to your chest. You winced as you saw the dark mark forming, stretching all along the left side of your ribs reflecting back at you in the mirror. It was only a matter of time before that became a disgusting and angry looking bruise.

With a sigh you released your dress, the fabric easily falling back down and covering you. Burying your face in your hands, you internally cursed yourself for having made such a stupid mistake. You knew better than to have reacted the way you had, but O’Brien had crossed a line. One you weren’t willing to cross for the sake of Amanda’s orders. But you certainly hadn’t expected that sort of reaction out of him. Thankfully it had been Jimmy she’d sent with you for the job instead of Eric–or God forbid, Michael . There probably would’ve been bloodshed had they accompanied you this evening and witnessed the way Sean O’Brien had treated you.

The sound of your front door flying open and the handle roughly slamming into the wall tore loudly through the stillness of your house. Hands flying down from your face, you startled in terrified surprise. Had O’Brien’s men come for further revenge? Had you embarrassed him that much? 

But then you heard Michael’s familiar and enraged voice calling your name sharply through the house. Eyes closing, you grimaced at the sound. He was pissed, you could hear it in the way he was shouting your name. Which meant Jimmy must’ve told him what happened tonight already.

"Where the hell are ya?" he yelled. “I know you’re home already!”

Shoulders dropping in defeat, you realized you weren’t going to be able to hide this from him like you’d planned to do. Cautiously stepping out of the bathroom, you turned the light off on your way into the hallway. Swallowing thickly at the sound of his angry footsteps storming into your sitting room, you gradually made your way down the length of your hallway towards him. Stopping in the entrance to the sitting room, you leant up against the wall, eyeing Michael’s tense form as he scanned your back garden through the window.

“I’m right here, Mikey,” you weakly called back.

He spun swiftly on his heels, his lips set in a thin line as he fixed you with his hardened stare and that stern expression etched over his features. Eyes pinching tight at the sight of you, he briskly crossed the room in a few quick, agitated steps. You could feel your heart slamming nervously in your chest over and over the closer he neared. That look on his face was not one you saw often, and certainly not one he’d ever directed at you. He looked ready to kill.

When he reached you, he immediately slammed both of his hands onto the wall on either side of your head with a sharp bang , caging you in between his arms. You flinched at the harsh noise as both of his palms hit the wall while he lowered his face to yours. With him standing this close, you could see just how livid he was, his hazel eyes practically alight with rage.

“What the hell were ya thinkin’?” he growled low. “Are ya fuckin’ daft now? Is that it?”

“Amanda wanted the deal set with O’Brien,” you told him, your own blood beginning to boil at the way he was speaking to you. “If ya have a problem with that, maybe ya should take it up with her instead o’ crashin’ into my place hollerin’ at the top o' your lungs.”

Michael’s head tilted to the side, his eyes twitching at the corner as he stared you down. “I know ya aren’t this fuckin’ stupid,” he hissed. “ Seducin’ Sean O’Brien? That sounded like a grand idea to score the deal, did it? The fuckin’ Titan–ya know that’s what they call him, don’t ya?”

“I don’t give a sheep’s arse what they call him,” you snapped. “He’s a goddamn prick and we needed his northern territory to expand, Mikey. Ya already know that.”

“So what?” he asked, voice lowering to something dangerous that had the hairs on the back of your neck raising. “Ya were just goin’ to fuck ‘em, were ya? Like ya were nothin’ better than a goddamn whore? That what ya wanted? His filthy fuckin’ hands all over ya?”

You pulled a face at his words, hurt and rage coursing through you at the cruelty and crassness in them. That wasn’t like the Mikey you’d always known, not even when he was upset with you. Without thinking, your hand rose up, swinging forward through the air in anger. Though Michael saw it coming. His hand darted forward, catching yours by the wrist and immediately halting its movements. Jaw clenching, you fought to free your hand from his hold, but all he did was pin it to the wall beside your head.

“Jimmy said he hurt ya,” Michael continued, his tone softening. His eyes lowered, scanning what he could see of your body. “What’d he do?”

You tried to shake out of his grip, but Michael didn’t move. He stood solidly just before you, his eyes darting back up to yours. The muscle began to jump in his cheek in irritation when you remained silent.

“What’d he do?” he asked again, an edge to the question.

“Hit me,” you grudgingly ground out.

Michael’s eyes narrowed, an emotion crossing behind them that you couldn’t place. You knew he’d react horribly if he’d found out what happened tonight; you'd known that the moment Amanda ordered you and Jimmy to schmooze O’Brien. Especially when she asked you to wear this particular dress that didn't cover much and demanded you openly flirt with him. But you certainly hadn’t expected that Michael would be quite this pissed–not at you, at least.

“He hit you?” he asked, his voice terrifyingly calm as he enunciated each word.

“And threw me around a bit,” you answered stiffly. “Because I did what Amanda asked but refused to go so far as to fuck him.” You glared venomously back at Michael as you bitterly added, “Because I don’t consider myself a damn whore .”

You heard the rough hiss of breath he expelled at your words, his nostrils flaring sharply. That rage was burning just behind his eyes again now. You could practically feel the heat of his anger as he kept you pinned to the wall.

“Show me,” he ordered. "Jimmy said ya were hurt. So show me."

“Michael, I don’t–”

“Show me,” he demanded more fiercely.

You stood there for a second, contemplating if it was possible to get out of this. To get him to calm down and just leave. But truthfully you knew better than that. You knew Michael better than that. He wasn’t going anywhere until he got his answers–which apparently included visual proof of what happened earlier.

Sighing, you lowered your left hand–the one which Michael didn’t still have pinned to the wall with his large one–and gradually began to pull the hem of your dress all the way up your body to reveal your ribcage. You shuddered at the cold air on your skin, goosebumps raising as Michael’s focus shifted downward onto your body. You were vaguely aware of the fact that your underwear was on full display with how high your dress was pulled up, leaving you in a state of undress that Mikey had never seen you in before. One you’d often wished for–but certainly not like this.

The moment Michael took in the sight of your injured side, his entire expression shifted instantly. The anger quickly dissipated, his features softening. His right hand left the wall beside your head, lowering down to your side before he gently brushed his fingertips along the skin beside the quickly forming bruise. He winced, his brows pinching tight together on his forehead.

“I’m goin’ to get us out o’ this,” he whispered, fingers still gently brushing along your skin. “I promise ya, I’ll get us out o’ everythin’.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, “so ya always say.”

His gaze drew back up to yours, something sad and pained in them reflecting back at you. It was a haunted look you’d seen often on Michael’s face in the years you’d been friends with him. One that seemed to have a more permanent place in his eyes after his time in prison.

“I can’t lose ya,” he whispered.

You lowered your dress, pushing his hand off of you as you did. The emotional walls you usually kept up felt like they were returning now, your anger at the way he’d been speaking to you only moments ago returning.

“Neither of us are gettin’ out o’ this shit, Mikey,” you spat. “You’re damn family wouldn’t let it happen. We both know that. So if ya got a problem with the way things happened this evenin’, I suggest ya take it up with your precious Amanda instead of fumin’ at me. I’m fuckin’ tired and it’s the last thing I need tonight.”

Michael’s head tilted to the side, confusion crossing his features next. Slowly, he released your wrist, and you immediately crossed your arms over your chest, covering a bit of your cleavage that the dress displayed all too well.

“What the hell are ya talkin’ ‘bout?” he asked, shaking his head. “"My precious Amanda'…?”

“Oh come off it, Mikey,” you snapped, still irritated with how he'd barged into your house and yelled at you. “I know ya still love her. I’m not an idiot. So why don’t ya take your anger out on the one who thought it a good idea to whore me out this evenin’, yeah?”

“I am not in love with Amanda,” he stated firmly. 

You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes. “Absolute bullshit, that is. You’ve been chasin’ after her for ages. And when she chose Jimmy over ya…” 

You trailed off, mouth snapping shut as Michael’s anger appeared to be quickly returning. As pissed as you were, you didn’t have the heart to mention Allison. You weren’t cruel.

Taking a sharp step forward, Michael was suddenly back in your face. His eyes were narrowed as they darted back and forth between yours, almost searching for something. You remained absolutely still, your arms hugging yourself a bit tighter at his reaction.

“I’ve never loved Amanda,” Michael growled out. “Not even back then, when we were kids just messin’ around. Because all these fuckin’ years I’ve always only ever been in love with you.”

Mouth falling open in shock, you felt like the air had been knocked from your lungs. Had you just heard him correctly?

“Except you have never wanted anythin’ serious with anyone! Ever!” he continued in a frenzy. “You’re the only one I ever wanted, but all ya ever wanted was to see what else was out there! And here I thought about ya every damn day–even when my arse was in that fuckin’ prison, just hopin’ one day I’d finally get out o’ there and fulfil my promise to ya. To get us both out o’ this shit,” he roared, chest heaving as he grew more impassioned. “And now I come to find ya were out seducin’ the goddamn Titan tonight and–and gettin’ beat for refusin’ to fuck him? Ya think I’m not goin’ to be fuckin’ angry ‘bout that, d’ya now, pet?”

You were still standing there with your back pressed against the wall, entirely shocked at everything he’d just said. All these years you’d thought he was in love with Amanda. You thought he’d married Allison because Amanda had chosen his brother over him. Figured that you were never anything more than just his friend and a part of the Kinsella business. Someone passed over when it came to his feelings. 

But he loved you?

“Michael–”

He held up a hand, cutting you off. “I don’t want to fuckin’ hear another damn word,” he snapped. “I’m goin’ to deal with that damned O’Brien my-fuckin’-self. But first I’m goin’ to have some words with Amanda because what she set ya up to do tonight is never happenin’ again. And don’t think I’m done yellin’ at ya for what happened, either.”

“Michael–”

“Because I’m not!” he continued, loudly talking over you. “This isn’t what ya do for us! And ya shouldn’t have agreed to it–”

“Michael!”

“You’re better than this!” he shouted. “Ya deserve better than this! And I won’t stand for–”

“Would ya shut the fuck up for just a damned minute so I could tell ya I love ya too, ya fuckin’ arsehole!” you yelled over him.

Michael stiffened before you, blinking hard a few times as he finally grew quiet. You could feel heat creeping up your neck, unable to believe you’d finally admitted it aloud to him after all this time. Now he knew, after you’d spent so long trying to hide that truth from him.

“What?” he breathed out.

Licking your lips nervously, your arms hugged yourself tighter. “I’ve always been in love with ya. But ya always were so focused on Amanda.” You shrugged, eyes dropping down to the floor. “Figured I was nothin’ more than your friend, Mikey. So I did my best to hide my feelings. Didn’t want to make things…weird between us. I only ever slept around because I couldn’t have ya. Not because I was tryin’ to see what all was out there.”

“So–so all this time…?” he whispered, his eyes growing wide.

You nodded slowly, looking back up at him as the shock of the truth was still hitting you. That he had feelings for you as well.

“Yes,” you answered.

Silence fell between the pair of you in the hallway, both of you standing there with your eyes locked on one another. Neither of you moved, though you saw the way Michael blinked harder a few times before his attention dropped down to your lips. Pulse quickening, your focus shifted to his mere inches from yours. You could feel your breath beginning to come in shallower, the sound of it loud in your ears in the stillness. 

How long had you thought about kissing him? How many years had passed where you dreamt about it? How many long nights had you laid awake in bed knowing he was with someone else, feeling it tear at your insides? 

And now here he was admitting to having always loved you. Possibly having spent all those same years feeling the jealousy and hurt that you did.

Slowly, your eyes made their way back up Michael’s handsome face. His hazel eyes were already focused back on yours. You'd barely inhaled half a breath before he took you by surprise, abruptly lunging at you as both of his hands darted forward, firmly grabbing your face just before his mouth crashed hard onto yours. 

Every single thought disappeared from your mind the second your back hit the wall behind you. Michael’s mouth was moving frantically against yours, the sound of sharp gasps filling the air each time his mouth broke away only to reconnect to yours. You weren’t even sure if it was you, or him, or the both of you making those hurried, desperate noises as your hands wrapped around him, fingers digging into the toned muscles of his back through his sweater. You were too busy struggling to keep up with the feverish and hungry way Michael’s mouth was moving against yours, as if he'd been wanting this for as long as you had. As if he physically couldn’t stop himself from kissing you.

And you were just as eager. Your fingers were wildly clawing at his back, trying your hardest to draw him closer to you while simultaneously trying to not to press your injured side to his body with the way you were holding him to the front of you. But you wanted him. Needed him. 

But when he abruptly pulled back, you whined loudly in frustration and protest. Eyes flying open and hands fisting the fabric of his sweater, you glanced up at him. He was breathing heavier, his brows knitted together as his lips glistened with both of your saliva.

“I need to speak with Amanda,” he breathed out.

Something white hot shot through you, your face immediately twisting into anger at his words. That was not a name you wanted to hear at the moment. Michael clearly saw the way your expression shifted and he was quickly opening his mouth before you even had a chance to respond.

"I'm goin' to tell Amanda off for what she asked ya to do tonight," he told you, shaking his head. "She's never doin' that again. I'm goin' to make damn sure of it."

"Can't ya do it tomorrow?" you asked. "Stay with me instead tonight, Mikey?"

He smiled softly back at you, both of his hands still cradling your face between his palms. One of his thumbs began to lightly stroke your cheek, the gesture so tender and gentle. You leaned into his touch, your anger rapidly leaving you.

"I'll be back right after, love," he promised. "I want to finish this, I do. The conversation we need to have and–and whatever else might happen after that,” he said, a faint smile brightening his face before it melted away again. “But Amanda crossed a line tonight, and I'm damn well goin' to make sure she fuckin' knows it. ‘M'not goin' to let it go until the mornin'. It's far too important for that. You’re far too important for me to put it off. Then I’m goin’ to have a word with Jimmy. What O’Brien did to ya won’t go unanswered, either. I promise ya that, pet."

Overcome with emotion at Michael’s fierce protectiveness, you closed the distance between the pair of you once more. Though this time when you pressed your lips to Michael’s, it was far more delicate than the kiss the pair of you had shared a moment ago. His mouth responded immediately, his lips moving so sweetly against yours as he continued to cradle your face, keeping you close. Your arms were tightening around his back, pulling him into an embrace that you wished you’d never have to leave.

“Come back to me after?” you whispered, reluctantly breaking away from his lips.

Michael’s hand slid back, tucking some hair behind your ear. Lowering his forehead to yours, he affectionately nuzzled his nose to yours next, the gesture drawing forth a smile from you.

“Always, love,” he murmured. “I’ll always come back to ya.”

[saintmurd0ck]

in flagrante delicto

frank masterlist | michael masterlist | part two (ish)

pairing: frank castle x f!reader x michael kinsella

summary: maybe it was the wrong idea to sneak away during a kinsella party, especially when michael's there to catch you in the act.

warnings: minor drug use, mentions of alcohol, threesome, dp, unprotected sex, m and f receiving oral, ass eating/ass play, amanda kinsella slander, cum... the list goes on

a/n: now let me tell you. this is an unholy abomination. enjoy the culmination of 4 months of writers block pretty much 💗

song recommendation: bad drugs (king kavalier)

The party is a distant blur in the courtyard below, fogged with your heavy breaths against the cool glass. “We shouldn’t be doing this here, Frank.”

His laugh mimics a deep, rolling purr as he presses you harder against the window, digging his fingers into your waist. The glow of the fairy lights dance across his face, faintly illuminating the handprints now marking the glass. You try not to wince at the evidence you’ve left, but Frank’s teeth on your neck clears every single worry running through your mind.

Some marker of relief glitters in your veins as you hear shouting, then as a crowd gathers around a shit-faced Eric, knocking back shot after shot with no care for the world. Frank’s clearly been distracting you far too long — to the point where you’ve forgotten where you are. At a Kinsella party. 

You can guarantee what you’re doing isn’t the worst thing happening in this house. 

Frank’s eyelashes flutter against your cheek as his lips ghost your skin, mouth finding yours as he pivots you around. He murmurs your name as you palm him through his jeans, savouring every thick inch of him with your lazy strokes. His fingers latch onto the button of your jeans, moving deftly to undo them, and then to wedge his hand between your legs. He feels for the soft lace edges of your underwear, tracking the wetness pooling between your legs. The outside world fades away as his finger slips over your aching clit, his low chuckle ringing in your ears as you arch into his touch. 

Your sharp intake of breath echoes throughout the hallway at the quiet drawl that sounds.

“So tha’s where you’ve been all night.”

Fuck. You’re screwed.

You cast a subtle glance past Frank’s shoulder, surveying the man leaning against the adjacent doorway, clumsily fixing the mess that’s become of your clothes. Michael looks the two of you up and down, tongue clicking as he strides towards you. He opens his mouth to say something, but he stills instead, eyebrows arching as he folds his arms across his chest. 

He’s the perfect portrait of a prom chaperone… waiting to catch someone in the act.

Heat blooms in your face as Michael inclines his head, mouth upturning into a knowing smile. “Well? D’ya have anythin’ to say?”

Words have long since failed you, so you try something else. A gentle nudge to Frank’s ribs has him clawing your elbow away, but your idea pays off.

He clears his throat. “Party was too loud.”

Michael nods, tapping his foot impatiently on the hardwood floor. “I see.” He pauses, jerking his chin towards Frank. “Jimmy’s lookin’ for ‘ya.”

You study his face for a moment, eyes narrowing at his tone, at his clipped words. There’s an edge to him tonight, and if the past has taught you anything at all, now’s the time to be careful.

Frank bristles at Michael’s attempt to separate the two of you. “If you’re jealous, you could’ve said so.”

There it is.

Michael runs his tongue over his teeth, a clear marker of his irritation. And the fact that Frank is well and truly right. “‘M not jealous, Frank.”

“Then what are you doin’, spying on us, huh?” There’s a challenge in his voice, and it thrums in your blood. “Think I didn’t notice ‘ya creepin’ behind, thinking you’re all stealthy and shit? You’ve been out of the game too long.”

“Besides,” Frank continues, clocking in the way Michael’s eyes dart upwards, “I never said I wouldn’t share.”

Michael scoffs. “You must be jokin’.”

Frank clamps his hands on your shoulders, pulling them backwards so you stand up straighter. He grunts as your top rides up, as Michael stares at the now-exposed sliver of your midriff. You barely have time to register as Frank’s lips brush past your ear, mumbling a quick ‘this okay, sweetheart?’, and then as he waits for your approval. To put on a show, most likely.

“Yes, Frankie,” you murmur, tipping your head back to feel his stubble scratching against your cheek. To bare your neck, so Michael can see exactly where you want his mouth. To begin with.

“You think I’m joking, Mikey?” Frank says, voice dipping low, hands running up your sides to cup your breasts. It seems as if Michael’s frozen in place as Frank squeezes them, fingers dipping beneath the cup of your bra to thumb your nipples. You open your mouth to moan at the friction of the fabric rubbing against your breasts. 

As usual, Michael’s a man of few words, either stony-faced or completely neutral. Not tonight, though. Tonight, all his tells lay open across his face.

“C’mere,” you breathe, watching his chest rise unevenly, noticing the breaths that start to catch in his throat.

You feel yourself falling apart as Frank nips your pulse, dragging his tongue up the column of your throat. He slides his hands under your shirt, hissing at the sensation of your silken skin on his calluses, at your raging warmth underneath his palms. 

It’s becoming increasingly difficult, but your focus remains on Michael. Any second now. 

He presses his lips together, throwing a glance behind his shoulder, checking to make sure no-one’s about to interrupt. 

“Fuck,” he says, and walks right over to you. 

. . .

As every semblance of self-control melts away, you feel yourself sinking into the feeling of two pairs of lips on your body, of the undiluted want radiating from the three of you.

It surprises you — how gentle Michael’s kisses are. How he asks for permission before slipping his tongue into your mouth, by running it across your bottom lip. You let him in with a groan, though you know part of that noise comes from the man kneeling at your back, tugging your jeans down your legs. Frank kisses your hip as he shimmies the fabric down your thighs, stopping for a second only to capture the waistband of your panties in his teeth. He pulls it away before letting it go, satisfied only when he hears the snap of the elastic against your skin. 

Your breathing goes shaky as Michael becomes more insistent, moving to cup your face while Frank drags his fingertips up your inner thighs. It’s as if they can’t drink you up fast enough, as if this is a fever dream about to vanish. A whimper tumbles from your mouth as Michael brushes his thumb over your cheek, stepping closer to slot himself between your legs. He shifts into you, grinding exactly where you need him, grunting at the newfound contact. 

Where Frank is rough, Michael’s soft instead. Yielding. Not what you expect at all, coming from a man with his… reputation, but you can guarantee one thing: none of this makes him any less fearsome. Not as he beholds you, desire deepening in his eyes, settling over his features. Lips hovering over your neck, just above the spot he marked earlier, Michael slips your top off, exhaling at the goosebumps now prickling your skin. Frank trails his kisses down your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands, spreading you apart. It’s scandalous, doing this by the window, knowing full well about the party raging on just below.

And with Amanda in such close proximity. You almost huff at the thought of her walking up the stairs and discovering this.

Frank’s low grumble of approval breaks your concentration. “Let’s get her naked.”

Michael hums in agreement, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor as the straps come off your shoulders. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, shaking his head in almost disbelief. “Struck gold, didn’t ‘ya, Frank?”

“Sure did,” Frank chuckles, knuckles grazing your clit, making you yelp in the process. He moves out of the way as Michael grips your waist, guiding you backwards until the cold glass bites your skin. It’s nothing to you; not with the pounding in your heart and the heat in your blood with the thought of what’s to come. As he slots his forearm between your waist and the glass, Michael’s tongue snakes out of his mouth to wet his lips. 

You loosen a breath, not being aware of how long you’ve held it, and look him in the eyes. He swallows, dipping his hand between your legs, dragging his finger up your centre before it stops on your clit. 

“Oh,” you groan, bucking your hips, desperate for more. You have half a mind to reach for his hand, to guide him until you find your release, but it seems he has something else on his mind.

“Stay right there, pet. Can you do that f’me?”

You nod, eyes glassy, watching him stalk to the bedroom across the hall. He jerks his head at Frank, who flashes Michael a cheeky grin before turning to you. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, darlin’. M’gonna make you cum, alright? But you gotta stay quiet. Deal?”

You’re a panting, wet mess, but you manage a small ‘yes’. You gaze down at Frank, watching him take his place between your legs, then as his mouth makes its way up your thighs. The throbbing in your core is insistent now, begging, pleading, to be taken care of. 

His eyes widen as you spread your legs for him. “Good girl,” he breathes, tongue darting out to flick your clit.

It’s an effort not to scream his name out loud, not when his tongue feels like that. You clamp a hand over your mouth, the other scrambling for purchase in his hair. He licks your clit in tight, little circles, paying close attention to the spot that makes you tremble the hardest, that threatens to make your voice break if you deign to open your mouth. He switches his rhythm, going back and forth, experimenting with touch and pressure until you– 

Your voice is hoarse as you say his name. “Frank. Frank, I’m gonna–”

He pulls away from your clit, slipping into the deepest parts of you, letting your taste coat his tongue. He groans in delight, mumbling something that sounds like ‘youtastesofuckinggood’ but you’re too in your own head to decipher the tangle of noise – no, you’re thrashing against the window, eyes squeezed shut, fingers curling in the hair close to his nape.

“Please, please, please,” you start to beg, muscles going tight, savouring the feeling of his mouth on your pussy. You start to ride his tongue, and he lets you. He lets you take control, to position him where you want him. The cord tethering you to reality snaps, taking your body with it. Your orgasm is almost blinding as it hits, cresting over your body until your shoulders slump against the window.

“Fuckin’ hell, pet,” Michael hisses, palming himself through his jeans, standing just in front of you. You don’t know when he got back—in fact, nothing is comprehensible at the moment—but you reach out to him, nevermind the thin layer of sweat now coating your skin.

Frank gets up off his knees to wipe his mouth as Michael fishes something out of his back pocket. It’s a little baggie, filled to the brim with what you and Frank affectionately label, ‘The Kinsella Special’. 

“Wan’ some?” Michael asks the both of you, tipping a little onto the back of his hand. Frank shakes his head, going to help you upright instead. You politely decline, considering how much you’d had earlier in the kitchen with Eric and Jimmy. The white powder coats Michael’s nostril as he snorts it, doubling back as it hits his system. 

“Too much of that shit’ll kill ‘ya,” Frank comments, cracking a smile.

Michael scoffs as he puts the baggie away, placing his hand on the small of your back. “Let’s go,” he says, head inclining towards the bedroom. You lick your lips, eyes glittering with delight as you let him guide you.

Frank merely follows suit, smacking your ass on the way there.

. . .

The door slams shut, a little too loud for your liking, but the feeling of Michael’s lips crashing on yours overrides any semblance of apprehension lurking in your brain. He sweeps a hand into your hair, coiling the strands around his fingers. Your breathing is shallow as his mouth grazes the skin of your jaw, while his other hand cups your face.

Frank’s pullover is nowhere to be seen as he tugs you away from Michael, sweeping you towards him until your bodies are touching, the delicious warmth of his skin spreading to yours. You flatten a palm against his chest, feeling the hardened muscle underneath as he grazes his mouth against yours, hungry for all you could possibly give. You’re utterly breathless— mesmerised by him, by the both of them, and their sole priority: you. 

You let out a low moan as Michael’s hands reach around to grab your breasts, rolling your nipples in his fingers. He leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, moving upwards to gently nip the shell of your ear. Your face grows taut as Frank moans your name, eyes fluttering shut at the sound of it coming from his mouth.

The word catches in your throat even as you don a purr. “Sensitive?”

Frank growls his agreement as his abs contract underneath your fingertips. He inches further forwards until there’s no space between the two of you at all, and then he takes your hand, not breaking contact once, guiding it down, down, down. 

He grunts as you stroke him through his jeans, moving your hand over the swell of his cock. You reach behind you to palm Michael at the same time, running the juncture of your thumb over his length, and for a moment, there’s no other sound except for your shared breaths, and the low grunts that slip from both men. The wetness pooling in your core – and the urge to do something about it – sends heat up your spine, wending its way into every last nerve ending.

Your mouth goes dry as Michael steps away to pull his shirt off, revealing a torso rippling with muscle, and several adorning tattoos. 

“Hey,” Frank chastises, sensing the shift in your attention, “eyes up here.”

“Fuck off,” you laugh, swallowing deeply as you rake your eyes over their bodies. “You’ll forgive me if I’m being vain.”

Michael averts his gaze, but he makes little effort to hide his grin. “Lighten up, Frank.”

The atmosphere instantly goes tense, silence weaving its way into every dark corner of the bedroom. Michael stiffens as Frank glares at him, boring past his softened exterior and into the Kinsella core inside. To the man you’d be scared to cross paths with, being the Punisher or not.  

But Frank sputters instead, shaking his head as he cracks a mischievous smile. There’s a lightness to his face, in his now-relaxed shoulders, and it makes you soar. 

“Now,” Frank drawls, “where were we?”

You only have a moment to nudge Frank in the ribs before Michael latches himself to you, his mouth like heaven on your tits. The three of you are a wildfire, desperate to get each other’s clothes off, barely pausing to breathe. Michael sits on the edge of the bed, fingers shaking as he fumbles for his belt. You knock his hands aside, groaning as he drags his tongue down your sternum, eyes dipping to the trail of hair leading below his waistband. 

“Want you to do the same,” you say, motioning to Frank as you unbuckle Michael’s belt. 

Frank nods silently, and your ears prick at the clinking of his buckle, then at the shuffle of fabric as he kicks his jeans away. You look towards him for a second, sizing up the bulge in his underwear. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as you turn around to find Michael sitting before you, legs spread and his cock in hand. He pumps it with a loose fist, biting his lip as he runs his thumb over the head. The corners of his mouth upturn as he meets your gaze. 

‘Blow me?’ it says. 

Lucky you’re more than happy to oblige. 

You sink down to your knees, hinging forwards to brace his thighs. You kiss along the hard plane of his stomach, tracing the ridges of his abs with the tip of your tongue. His cock twitches as your mouth nears. 

“Fuck,” he grits, carding his fingers through your hair. Your eyes flicker with delight as you swirl your tongue over his sensitive head, as he bucks his hips into your mouth. 

Frank’s lips brush past your ear as you take Michael fully, the tip of his cock almost touching your throat. “Bend over for me, sweet girl?”

Frank takes his place behind you as he listens to your hum of approval, chuckling as Michael groans your name. You’re throbbing hard now, core pounding as Frank spreads you apart, lapping up your glistening arousal. You moan with your lips still wrapped around Michael’s cock, digging your fingernails into his thighs as Frank pushes his tongue inside you. 

“Remember what I said about being quiet?” Frank asks, swapping his tongue for two of his fingers. 

“Yes, Frank,” you exhale, contracting around his fingers as he strokes that spot inside you.

“Gonna let you off the hook for a bit. I think you’d agree with me, wouldn’t you Mikey?”

Colour stains Michael’s cheeks as he opens his mouth to reply, utterly blissed out from the way you’re working him with your hand and mouth. “Mmh— yeah—“

Your eyes roll back into your head as Frank replaces his fingers with his cock, nudging it against your entrance. You bite your lip, hand freezing around Michael, stunned in place at the burn of Frank stretching you out. He hisses a frantic ‘good girl’ as you envelop him, little by little. 

“Did I say you could stop?” Frank grunts, burying himself to the hilt in one sharp thrust. Shuddering, you shake your head and try to put your mouth back on Michael, but no coherent thoughts run through your head. Frank feels too good. 

“Suck him off or I’ll stop, princess.”

“Fuck,” you grit, wiping away the blooming tears in your eyes. “Fu—“

Michael guides himself into your open mouth, parting your lips with his head, gripping your chin as he looks down at you. “Look how pretty y’are, pet. Takin’ it so good.”

You nod furiously, a breathy moan loosening from your lips at the praise, and then as Frank slows his pace. Michael doesn’t seem to mind as you pull away from him, watching intently instead at the string of spit still connecting himself to you. His darkening gaze snaps to Frank’s at the sudden wet slap of his body against yours, nostrils flaring as you grip Michael’s thighs hard enough to bruise.

Your legs tremble as Frank withdraws himself to the tip, chuckling at your efforts to press up against him for more. You could groan at the emptiness inside you, at the feeling of your core going tight with impatience.

“Greedy, aren’t you?” he grunts, knotting your hair in his fist. He thrusts back into you, rolling his hips at a pace that almost has you screaming for more. He bends forwards, lips roving down the column of your spine, whispering his dirty sweet nothings until your thoughts are nothing more than a thunderous roar in your ears.

Michael lifts your chin with a sweep of his finger, running his tongue over the seam of your lips. You moan into his mouth, letting him in without hesitation. He laughs dryly at the guttural sound of Frank hitting that spot inside you, leaving you breathless as his tongue brushes against yours.

Your skin prickles with heat at the thought of having more, of being selfishly theirs. Only theirs. 

And with that thought, Frank pulls you over the edge, relishing in the way you tip your head back, eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure coursing through your blood.

Not letting you get even one moment of reprieve, Michael sits back on the edge of the bed, patting his thigh for you to sit. 

On him.

Your lips twitch into a sly smile. “You want me to…?”

His mouth curves upwards. “Tha’ too much to ask?”

You bite your lip as you get on your feet, hips swaying as you let him rake his gaze up and down. A flicker of amusement flashes across his face as he grips his cock at the base, spreading his legs to show you exactly what you’re missing with every passing second.

You lunge for him, pressing your back against his chest to straddle his thighs. You lower yourself on him, loosening a breath at the sudden fullness, at the way his cock fills you but still feels wholly different from Frank’s. 

“There ‘ya go,” he moans, hands finding your waist. He guides you up and down his length, cursing at how tight your pussy is, at how wet you are for him. Frank’s wicked smile only grows as he traces his fingers over the outline of your lips. You open up for him, nearly choking as he shoves them into your mouth. With one hand anchored to the bed, you lift the other to his cock, squeezing him as you jerk him off, just the way he likes.

“Hey Mikey,” Frank grunts, hips bucking into your hand, “you wanna know what I see right now?”

Michael lifts an eyebrow, thrusts starting to match the rhythm of your hips. “Yeah?”

“She gets that look in her eyes when she wants to be used.”

You whimper at the words, and Michael stills for a moment. “Oh?”

Frank smiles sweetly at you, nevermind that his fingers are almost touching the back of your throat. “That what you want, darlin’?”

“Mmmm.” That’s all you can muster, when you’re riding Michael like your life depends on it, with Frank throbbing in your hand.

“Say it.”

“Please,” you beg. “Please. I want you two to use—“

“Dirty girl,” Michael drawls, teeth closing in on the side of your neck, his tongue flicking out once to soothe the sting of his bite. He stutters into you, slamming your body down into his cock. His hands knead your breasts as he groans your name, frenzied at the feeling of your cum dripping down his balls.

Tilting your chin upwards, Frank sweeps in to kiss you, taking over your efforts in jerking him off. His breath fans over the skin of your jaw, tickling the shell of your ear. “If I knew you’d fuck her this good…” he says to Michael, dark eyes ravaging you to the bone.

“Yeah, and?” Michael pants.

“Woulda asked you to do this a long, long time ago.”

Your head lolls to the side as you cum around Michael’s cock, squeezing him so hard he curses.

“Fuckin’ hell, Frank,” he whispers, voice hoarse, “you’d better not be bullshittin’ me, yeah?”

Frank’s smirk glints in the dim light of the room. “Now why would I ever do that?”

Michael drums his fingers along your ass, prompting you to get up, to use every bit of strength left in your flailing limbs to stand. 

“We’re far from done, princess,” Frank drawls, helping you onto the bed. You’re half-tempted to tell him to heave you on it instead, when your legs feel like jelly and your skin sears with the imprints of their touch. 

With your back cushioned by the soft sheets, you stretch your body, arcing your spine off the bed. You’re more than aware of the way you’re being watched in this moment, of the way you’re ensnared like prey to two apex predators. 

“Attagirl,” Frank grunts, licking his lips at the writhing, squirmy display beneath him. His eyes snap to Michael’s. “Ain’t that right?”

“Spread ‘er apart, will ‘ya, Frank?” 

Frank’s lips press into a line at the quiet command in Michael’s voice, inclining his head in acknowledgement. He does as he’s told, knocking your thighs apart with his knee, leaning forwards to lick circles on your clit.

Wedging his hands under your shoulder blades, Michael pulls you to the edge of the bed, making sure your head tips over the side. He brushes a thumb over your lips and you part your mouth instinctively, lurching forwards for a taste, any taste of him.

Michael’s voice drops an octave, and you swear his Irish lilt becomes more pronounced. “Eager, aren’t ‘ya?”

No retort comes out of your mouth, not when Frank buries himself inside you. Not when Michael stuffs his cock in your mouth at the same time.

But the excitement is short-lived, because the sound of slamming doors and shouting from downstairs drags their attention away from you. The party—

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’, Mikey?” Frank says, raising his eyebrows.

Michael looks to the ceiling as he runs his tongue over his teeth, lost in a moment of contemplation. “Yeah,” he starts, nodding, “yeah. Who cares? We’re busy.”

“If they hear somethin’ they don’t like, it’s their problem,” Frank agrees, looking to you. “You okay with that, angel?”

You raise your hips to fuck yourself against Frank’s cock, breathing your ‘yes’ into Michael’s thighs. He guides himself back into your mouth, hissing as he watches his length disappear past your lips, the angle deeper now with the position of your head. His hand flutters over the bulge in your throat, pace faltering as he listens to the sloppy, obscene noises you can’t help but make. They spur you on, almost as much as the sound of Frank’s low groans, and he lets you use him, grind on him, until you find your release yet again. 

“More,” you gasp, breaking away from Michael’s cock, lifting your ass to go deeper. “Please.”

“Take what you need, sweetheart,” Frank exhales, abs contracting at the sight of your need, your desperation. There’s no more challenge, no more taunting in his words. It’s just Frank, laid completely bare, wanting you to take.

Unable to hold himself back, Michael spills down your throat with a roar, the syllables of your name ripping from his throat. You unravel with him, your cry muffled around his cock, knowing it almost takes Frank with you.

The aftershock ebbs away slowly with Michael slumping over you, palms flattening at your sides as he withdraws himself from your mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “sorry, pet. Didn’t mean to do tha’.”

Your eyes glisten with hunger as you lick your lips, throat bobbing as you swallow every last drop. “Anything for you, Michael.”

He grits his jaw at the promise in your tone. “On your front.”

He starts to harden at the wink you flash, at the sly ‘yes, sir’ you decide in a split-second to say. The sound of moving fabric rustles in your ears as you flip over, propping yourself up with your forearms. In a tiny moment of defiance, you arch your back, wiggling your ass in the air as if to say, ‘I haven’t got all night, boys.’ Frank counters with a smug smile, settling down near the headboard, resting his hands behind his head. He widens his legs, cock twitching with anticipation as he flexes his hips upwards. I haven’t got all night, either.

He makes a show out of touching himself, amused at the effect it has on you. You let out a long moan as Michael’s tongue laps at your pussy, but it’s cut short as his tongue travels further up, higher, until his mouth hovers…

“Mikey,” you breathe, hands fisting the sheets.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and the words melt against your skin, fringed with a gentleness you rarely get to hear.

“Of course,” you exhale, shivering at the warmth of him, so close to that part of you— “Fuck!” Your toes curl as he dives into you, feasting as though he’s been starved his whole life. He has you clawing at the sheets as he worships you, an infinite well of pleasure crackling through your body.

A muscle feathers in Frank’s jaw as he hands Michael a bottle of lube, one hand still gripping his cock, content with just watching for now. The cap pops open with a small click that reverberates in your skull, filling your mind with nothing more than embers about to spark.

Michael’s husky voice pulls you from the daydream, his finger starting to circle the outline of your asshole. “I’ll start slow, okay? You let me know if you need a break.” 

Your nose scrunches as the lube stings with the cold, but it warms quickly with Michael’s gentle touches. He eases a finger in, pausing at your sudden sharp inhale, but you nod for him to keep going. 

It doesn’t take long for him to slip the second finger in, then his third. He takes his time warming you up, always watching for signs of discomfort, but discovering instead that your moans are getting louder, that they’re turning into little pleas for his cock. 

“You gotta speak up, sweetheart,” Frank chuckles, gliding his fingers along your pulse. 

You angle your head around to Michael, who slaps his cock against your ass cheek, making a point of how quickly you managed to get him hard again. Your body tenses as he nudges the tip in, stretching you out inch-by-inch. It takes a second for you to adjust to his length, but then… then he begins to move. 

“You look so good gettin’ fucked out, sweetheart. You know that?” Frank groans, pumping himself harder. You dart forwards to lick his broad head, to lap up the precum beading there.

Your eyes squeeze shut as Michael puts his body weight on you with long, languid thrusts filling you as much as you can take. You shove your hand between your legs, fingers rubbing your swollen clit, desperate for friction. Every breath comes out shaky as he anchors himself — one hand on your shoulder, the other on the bed — and begins to snap his hips. He fucks you the way you deserve, and he knows it.  The knot building in the bottom of your stomach threatens to unravel with every movement, your impending release singing through every nerve. 

As if sensing it, Michael pulls out, leaving you empty. Unfulfilled. 

“Hey,” you grumble, shooting daggers at him. “I was so close.”

“Jus’ savin’ the best for last, darlin’,” Michael winks, Frank echoing the sentiment seconds later.

Coaxing you off your stomach, Frank hauls you over him, dragging a finger through your slick folds before lining himself up with your pussy. You fight the urge to scream as you sink onto him, toeing the line between pain and pleasure with the thickness of his cock. 

“God fucking damn,” you grit, flattening your palms against his chest, rolling your hips in large, smooth circles. He beckons Michael forward, grabbing your ass to spread you apart. Keeping his momentum going, Frank plants his hands on your hips to lock you in place, drilling into you at a pace that has you seeing stars. 

“That’s it baby, cum on my cock,” he groans, letting out a half-cry, slanting his lips over yours as he feels you squeeze around him. 

Your body barely reacts as Michael assumes a position behind you, waiting for your breathing to calm before guiding himself into you. 

“Oh God,” you whimper, “ohgodohgodohgod.”

Something catches fire inside of you as they start to move in tandem, and you’re full; you’re so full you can’t think. You can’t help the panting, your dragged out moans… it’s more than intense— a feeling you can’t link to anything else you’ve ever experienced. 

White fringes your vision as they sync their rhythms together, moving faster than before, leaning into each other— into you. Your fingernails dig into Frank’s shoulders as their voices start to blur together; their grunted praise and hushed degradation almost indistinguishable from the sound of your whimpers. 

Your head tips back as you clench on their cocks, and Frank surges upwards to capture your nipple in his mouth, nibbling on the pebbled flesh, if only to make you squeeze once again. His low groans and Michael’s soft curses distill in the room, suspended in the air around your bodies, as this becomes all you know. 

Words don’t exist— thoughts don’t exist in this moment in time; it’s just you, and Frank, and Michael. Just the three of you, caught in a whirlwind with no beginning or end. 

There is no end, even as they destroy you, even as they shatter within you, rendering every last drop they have to give. 

. . .

You crack an eye open at the covers lifting off your body, then as Michael pads across the room towards the door. He shuts it softly, but he stands close enough that it’s easy to hear the conversation.

Amanda’s hushed voice comes through. “What’d you get up to last night? Didn’t see ‘ya very much.”

Michael pauses. Too long. “Yeah– uh, Frank and I had somethin’ to do.” 

You choke.

Their words drown out as a sleepy Frank wraps his thick arm around your body, pulling you in tight, nuzzling against the crook of your neck. “Eavesdropping, sweetheart?”

You swat him away, to no avail, craning your head to hear the last of the conversation. “Shh.”

He growls, nipping at your shoulder, nudging your legs apart to slot in between. His voice, still gravelly from the effects of sleep, prickles your skin. “How about I get you all nice and warmed up for him by the time he gets back here, huh? Figured he’d need the distraction, after talking to her.”

There’s no masking the wetness pooling between your legs, or the heat licking up your spine. “Alright, Castle,” you smirk. “Do your worst.”

tags {x} @marvelswh0re @murdock-and-the-sea @pedrito-friskito @itwasthereaminuteago @mattmurdocksscars @e-dubbc11 @mindidjarin @phoebe-danvers @munsonownsmyass @briefcasejuice @simple-lovebot @stress--relief @castlesnchurches

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🗞️📖 Bookish News 📖🗞️

🦇 Extra, extra. Read all about it! 📖 Good evening, bookish bats! A lot happened in the publishing industry last month, but here are a few highlights you may have missed!

Adaptations Jennifer Lopez's production company and Netflix - Emily Henry's Happy Place Laika (Travis Knight directing) - Susanna Clarke's Piranesi Universal (Taika Waititi directing?) - Percival Everett's James We Were Liars adds Rahul Kohli to the cast Patrick Dempsey and Sarah Michelle Gellar have joined the cast of the Dexter prequel, Original Sin Chris McKay to direct Brynne Weaver’s Butcher and Blackbird Ayvan Williams, Jessica Belkin & Savannah Lee Smith casted for Becky Albertalli's The Upside of Unrequited First looks for Heartstopper S3 are out Apple TV - Laura Lippman's The Lady in the Lake Adult Swim - Anthony Bourdain’s graphic novel series, Get Jiro! UCP - Chris Witaker's All the Colors of the Dark The Best Christmas Pageant Ever - Barbara Robinson A24 - Jennifer Lawrence starring - Paul Rainey's Why Don't You Love Me? Netflix - Richard E. Grant and Tom Ellis casted for The Thursday Murder Club Sony - Michael Crichton and James Patterson's Eruption Renee Zellweger starring in 12 Months to Live Awesomeness - Melissa De La Cruz's Blue Bloods The Uglies adaptation has a release date after 18 years (September 13) The trailer for Elin Hilderbrand's The Perfect Couple is up Ursula K. Le Guin’s A Wizard of Earthsea is being adapted into a graphic novel Prime - Colin Firth joins the cast of Young Sherlock Universal - Omid Scobie's Royal Spin Netflix - Bridgerton Season 4 lead announced Amazon - Fourth Wing series adaptation is a go Apple TV - The trailer for Pachinko! Season 2 is up An adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s Nickel Boys will open the 62nd New York Film Festival Patton Oswalt’s comic book Minor Threats is being adapted into a live-action series HBO - Dune: Prophecy releases in November

Cover Reveals Babylonia - Costanza Casati The Get Off - Christa Faust The Ragpicker King - Cassandra Clare What Does It Feel Like - Sophie Kinsella Wake Up and Open Your Eyes - Clay McLeod Chapman Ageless - Renee Schaeffer The Thirteenth Child - Erin A. Craig Song So Wild and Blue: A Life With Joni Mitchell - Paul Lisicky The Meadowbrook Murders - Jessica Goodman On Her Terms - Amy Spalding Onyx Storm - Rebecca Yarros The River Has Roots - Amal El-Mohtar The Wind Weaver - Julie Johnson In Gad We Trust - Josh Gad The Life of Herod the Great - Zora Neale Hurston (posthumous) The Other People - CB Everett How My Neighbor Stole Christmas - Meghan Quinn

Upcoming Releases I Saw the TV Glow director Jane Schoenbrun has a debut novel coming out, Public Access Afterworld Carol Moseley Braun is writing a memoir, Trailblazer: Perseverance in Life and Politics New memoir by Hilary Rodham Clinton The Road is Good - Uzo Aduba Leo Martino Steals Back His Heart - Eric Geron Viola Davis is co-writing with James Patterson

News Macmillan is launching a "new adult fiction" imprint. The 2024 Locus Award winners were announced The 2024 Boston Globe-Horn Book Awards were announced Nebula Award winners were announced Random House is buying Boom! Studios

[charliethomascoxuniverse]

Hey, they updated the Kinsella family tree! 👀✨ 

Michael and Jimmy’s estranged sister finally has a name! 👍

(Also can’t help but notice there are three generations of Kinsellas in a row with two boys and a girl. First Bren, Frank, and Birdy. Then Michael, Jimmy, and Jenny. And then Jamie, Anthony, and Anna.)

(Still wondering about other stuff though...like who’s Eric’s mother? And where’s Birdy’s husband (her last name is Goggins, not Kinsella, so she married at some point)? Dead maybe? And did Birdy have a child who died at some point, as was suggested with her comment about a “f*cking madness” overtaking a mother when she loses a child? Or could she have been referring to her own mother perhaps? 

And of course, the mystery of Alison - Anna’s mother. Was she his wife or girlfriend? And was it truly Michael that killed her? And then Julie, Michael and Jimmy’s mother who abandoned them at some point, likely taking their sister with her. Yep, so many questions still up in the air...hopefully S2 will answer some of them.)

[modern-day-classic]

i was tagged by @waddinghamhannah. Thanks girliepop 💖

rules: spell your url with song titles and then tag as many people as there are letters.

M: My Love - Henry

O: Old Time Rock & Roll - Bob Seger

D: Did It Again - Kylie Minogue

E: Eyes Don't Lie - Isabel LaRosa

R: Red Shoe Blues - Hannah Waddingham

N: November Rain - Guns n Roses

D: Dial Drunk - Noah Kahan

A: All I've Ever Known - Hadestown Cast

Y: You Wear It Well - Rod Stewart

C: Creepin' - 21 Savage, Metro Boomin, and The Weeknd

L: Lucky Me - Bachelor Girl

A: All At Once - Whitney Houston

S: Science Fiction - The Divinyls

S: Something Good - Julie Andrews

I: I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Wont Do That) - Meatloaf

C: Cocaine - Eric Clapton

All of these are from my liked playlist on Sp*tify 😅 so yes I am well aware it's incredibly eclectic

Tagging:

@reelega @movrings @biscuitboxpink @damelucyjo @hart-kinsella @queerhydrangea @sophiedevreaux @gilliandersons @thatgirlwasmeanttofly @knowthatiloveyou

PLUS ANYONE ELSE WHO SEES THIS AND WANTS TO DO IT

[mattmurdocksscars]

Here's a Mikey thot from me too, just to add on the pile~

You're over at Jimmy's at a Kinsella get together and Mikey's off listening to one of Eric's crazy stories but he notices you catching glimpses at him. You can't help it. He looks good and you can't wait to get back to his. But he feels good and decides to be a tease and just

does this, out of nowhere, completely uncalled for. You choke on your drink a little, and you try to wave it off, but Michael knows and he'll keep flexing randomly for the rest of the night just to drive you insane leaving you yearning to kiss every goddamned tattoo on his arms

What a little shit!!! He would do that too! Knowing you can't do a damn thing about it until yall leave. But he's definitely in for it when yall get home 😏

[bepractical]

Kin Season 1 Superlatives 

I'm just about ready to reignite my Daredevil obsession, but before my page becomes flooded with pics of my favorite vigilante in black pjs… 

I thought I’d do one last Kin post to close out my recaps, at least until Season 2. Here are my superlatives for season 1 of Kin. It was much harder than I expected.

Favorite Character: Michael Kinsella.

You won’t believe it but I really had to think this one through. How much of my love for Michael has to do with Charlie Cox? Have I been blinded by those sad, puppy-dog eyes? Amanda is my close second and her storyline and development is just as satisfying. In the end there are a few things that put Michael in the top spot. The first is Anna. Michael and Anna’s relationship is one of my favorite things about the series. More on that in a minute. Second, I love how Michael is portrayed. It’s a conscious decision to make the family hitman a quiet, grieving man, who is soft and shy on the outside but a stone cold killer who struggles with expressing himself and with detachment on the inside. His health problems provided some of the most intense moments of the series and he has wonderful, multidimensional relationships with Anna, Jimmy, Amanda, Birdy, Jamie and Frank. He’s a good character who is well acted and I cannot wait to see what happens with him next season. 

Least Favorite Character: It’s Frank.

Of course it is. I’ve said it before and I stand firm in the assertion, rewatching is not kind to Frank. It’s not that Frank is uninteresting or poorly written. He has a great story arc and Aidan Gillen does a wonderful job with a pretty thankless character. Frank is written as a man who worked hard to secure his place in the family. He kept them well respected and relevant, but failed to provide the might needed to survive. Even before the events at the beginning of the season he had a fraught relationship with Eamon. Once the shit hit the fan, Frank reacted in the worst way possible. He panicked, stopped looking for solutions, and took out his frustration on the people around him. He was pathetic, sexist and incompetent, and a terrible, emotionally abusive dad to Eric. 

Favorite Villain: Eamon Cunningham.

Eamon is frustrating, foolish, stubborn and full of hubris. He’s entirely dependent on his ability to intimidate and outright murder his enemies. The minute someone bites back he’s floundering, with no choice but more force. He’s the Goliath to the Kinsella’s David. He’s also a sucker for his ex wife and his little son in Spain. Eamon is a great antagonist and Ciarán Hinds plays him well.

Character Who Benefited Most from the Recaps: Jimmy Kinsella.

The slow watch I did for the recaps, where I paid special attention to details and wasn’t doing ten other things while I watched, was so good for Jimmy. There are a lot of small details to his performance, and most often they involve him loving and reaching out to his loved ones. He’s an incredibly emotional character and the dichotomy between him and Michael is fascinating. 

Biggest Fuck Up: Eric Kinsella.

Character or plot point, it’s all about Eric. He’s a loveable fuck up, but a fuck up all the same. His horribly planned, anger fueled drive by was undoubtedly the biggest fuck up of the season. 

Character Who Made the Largest Impact in the Least Amount of Screentime: Bren Kinsella.

His appearance answered so many questions I didn’t even know I had concerning Michael, Jimmy and Frank. He’s the missing piece in the Kinsella crime family and I cannot wait to see more of him.

Character I Want to See More Of: Birdy Goggins nee Kinsella

Birdy played a supporting role in most of her relationships this series, whether she was subtly manipulating Michael or bolstering Frank. My favorite scenes of hers, though, were her conversations with Eamon. First at Jamie’s funeral, when she outright asks him to give the Kinsellas Caolan Moore and second, when she approaches him in the parking garage and tries to broker a peace. I want to see more of Birdy when she’s not propping up other characters. I am also dying to see her, Frank and Bren. 

Favorite Ship: Michael/Amanda/Jimmy.

Aka my favorite slow moving disaster. Every combination of these three is a delightful mess.  

Favorite Family Relationship: Michael and Anna.

This is a show about family, so the options are many. In the end I have to go with Michael and Anna. They are the same flavor of awkward ducks and seeing them circle each other and try to carve out a relationship is stressful and endearing. Big props to Hannah Adeogun for mirroring some of Charlie’s mannerisms for Michael, right down to his awkward smile. 

Most Shocking Death: Jamie Kinsella.

In retrospect there’s enough foreshadowing packed in that first episode that his death should have been visible from the moon, but on first watch I found it truly shocking. 

Favorite Storyline: The Kinsellas do a robbery.

From Frank’s mischievous smile when the idea is first brought up, to Eric and Jimmy’s delight at Michael’s participation, to Michael’s dry delivery when threatening Con, to the family celebration when the job is done, this was a delight all around. Was it a good idea? Probably not. But everybody loves a heist and I love that this one hinged on Con Doyle loving his son more than he cares about Eamon’s drugs. 

Least Favorite Storyline: Eamon and Angela go to an ayahuasca ceremony.

I love Angela and the hold she has on Eamon. I even love getting to see more of Eamon’s life outside of him terrorizing the Kinsellas. It’s the muddy symbolism, man. 

Saddest Scene: Jimmy's eulogy.

This is a sad, sad series. After much contemplation, I’m gonna go with Jimmy’s eulogy at Jamie’s funeral for the saddest scene. It is a certified tearjerker. Emmett J Scanlan does a tremendous job in his portrayal of grief, with his strained, tearfilled smiles as he struggles to talk about his dead son. We also get a brief recognition of the pain Michael has caused his own daughter (which leads to another sad scene). The scene ends with a cut to Amanda with a crying Jimmy beside her, who has finally surfaced long enough from her own grief to see how painful this is for Jimmy.  

Most Satisfying Scene: Amanda ferrets out the mole.

Everything about this plan is immensely satisfying to me. The minute Amanda suspects someone is working against the family, she uses her deductive reasoning to figure it out. She confronts Kem at her house, with Jimmy unknowingly on standby, and weasels the truth out of him. Look at that shot. Awesome. 

Most Stressful Scene: Michael freaks out during the hit on Caolan Moore.

So many options and almost all of them have to do with Michael. I’m going with the first scene to truly stress me out in the series, Michael trapped in the bar after he kills Caolan Moore. It ends with him face-to-face with Mini Michael, the hitman who killed Jamie, but he can't focus his eyes to shoot. So stressful.

Most Cathartic Scene: Michael yells at Amanda after the cafe shootout.

If you’re looking for catharsis, this may not be the series for you. There is, however, one scene that really brings it home. You know the one. It’s Michael screaming out his feelings after the shooting at the cafe. If ever a character needed a moment to release his emotions, it’s Michael. 

And that's all she wrote. Feel free to post our own, or say if you agree or disagree. The list I used is below. Hope to see you next season!

Favorite Character

Least Favorite Character

Favorite Villain

Character Who Benefited Most from the Recaps

Biggest Fuck Up

Character Who Made the Largest Impact in the Least Amount of Screentime

Character I Want to See More Of 

Favorite Ship

Favorite Family Relationship

Most Shocking Death

Favorite Storyline

Least Favorite Storyline

Saddest Scene

Most Satisfying Scene

Most Stressful Scene

Most Cathartic Scene